For Arabs: Fewer Degrees of Seperation

For Arabs, there are always fewer Degrees of Seperation

Six degrees of separation, the idea that every human being is connected to every other person by at the most six links through acquaintances, was popularised by a play written by John Guare. The American psychologist Stanley Milgram experimented with the theory years later, and despite publishing an article on the matter in the 1970s, the whole premise of the theory is still regarded by many as an urban myth.

Nonetheless, whatever that sacred number connecting us all is presumed to be, advances in technology and travel have probably reduced it considerably. And regardless of technological advancements, the figure should be more like “three-degrees of separation” in the Arab world.

After all, upon meeting anyone new, we automatically practise the ritual of connecting the familial dots, drawing up our new acquaintance’s family tree in our head, and then trying to find out how that tree aligns or intersects with our own, our friend’s or the in-laws in our family.

An alternative to the proverb, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” is that “the friend of a friend of my uncle/dad/mother is my friend”. Usually, “name dropping” is an effective means at obtaining wasta; using a family member or family of a friend of a friend to secure a job, or even expedite a local bureaucratic process, such as acquiring a date to sit for your driving test. It also somehow allows one to “transfer news” about any common links – a practice commonly known as gossiping. The news, however big or small, always manages to reach your mother.

However, sometimes, the six degrees of separation (or the presumed three degrees, for us Arabs) can be an awkward measure of “friendship”. In the UAE, and the rest of the Arab world, a family name is highly important, profoundly more so than in the United States and many other western countries. And so, upon meeting someone of Arab ancestry, we begin the process: “aah, al Ramahi. Do you know ...? And ...? He’s married to the sister of my mother-in-law, who is a Ramahi.”

The awkwardness seeps in when you least expect. For example, when you realise that your new acquaintance is, in fact, inquiring because he is not so fond of your “friend” in x-degree of separation. Or, he is very fond of that “common” friend, but a distant family member is in a feud with that person.

Digital networking sites have also made the “downside” of the six degrees theory even more awkward. Facebook, for example, now has a new “suggestions” option, where through some complicated algorithm it “suggests” friends you may know through friends you already know (maybe the algorithm is not so complicated after all). And so now, I have pending friend requests from “members of my family” in locations as distant as Sacramento, California, and places in Germany.

On the other hand, the nice thing is that wherever you are in the world, you’re unlikely to be alone. Eventually, you will find the “link” that connects you to someone you may actually like. Also, somehow knowing someone who knows someone who knows someone can introduce a compassionate urge to help them, whoever they are, which may, in turn, help mend some of our world’s most pressing problems.

Kevin Beacon, the founder of sixdegrees.org, capitalised on that compassion through social correlation by creating a charitable network that inspires people to help others that they may know.

And while the “six degrees of separation” is yet to be revised or revalidated, the phrase is now merely used as a metaphor for “it’s a small world”.

A doctoral student I met in Palo Alto, California, during my studies there turned out to be a very close friend of my dad’s cousin. During later sessions of our Arab hobby of drawing the links, I also found out that I was only one degree of separation away from one of my ultimate heroes: the late Dr Edward Said.

At times, my Arab ancestry makes me scream “this world is just too small”. But at other times, I am so thankful that I sing along to the lyrics of that popular Walt Disney anthem: It’s a small world after all.

Recession? What Recession?

I was at Marina Mall (Abu Dhabi) yesterday, and as I walked past Gucci, I immediately did a double take. Usually I do so because a fabulous new bag is on display, but this time it was different. For starters, there were NO bags on the window display, which can be explained by the following:
There were hoards of women (and men) waiting outside the store. Even more people inside. Apparently, Gucci and the rest of the Al Tayer/Amber group stores started a massive 2-day discount extravaganza (the amount of discount varied depending on the store).
Gucci had 50 percent off everything, and the place really resembled a souk, rather than a luxury retail store. They had some store assitants "regulate" traffic by closing the doors at regular intervals.

Women were grabbing as many Gucci handbags as their hands and personal shopper assistants (aka housemaids) could carry once they were inside.
It was a little amusing, and all I could think of was: Recession? What Recession?

But then again, it could be the other way round, and the recession is actually making these people go head over heals over discounted luxury items (which we all know, is a necessity in this part of town. *Please read with sarcasm*).
My job is done here because a picture is really worth a thousand words. So here's two thousand words for your guys:

Expat Power 2009

Arabian Business featured the Gulf's 50 Most Influential Expatriates, in their May 24-30, 2009 edition. (Vol 10 | Issue 21).Their editorial 'Time to Celebrate Expat Achievement' dubs these men (yep all of the fifty influential expats are M-E-N), as the "expat elite: they sit with sheiks and consort with kings".

Arabian Business lists the methodology of their Expat Power listing, but I am still perturbed that not a single woman was featured on the list. The methodology may have favored men, but then again, if these players, as the magazine suggests "sit with sheikhs and consort with kings" (the phrase is a little sensationalist, if you ask me), it makes sense that a male is more likely to make it to the top because he is welcome to mingle in the majlis.

That said, it would be interesting to know how many men follow their wives to the Gulf, in order to take a top position in the flourishing economy of the GCC. Also, how many women of the "influential expat" men actually work? How successful are they? Or are most stay at home wives, who are enjoying the lassaiz fair lifestyle of the Gulf?

Anyhow, Martin Newland, Editor in Chief of The National features on the list (No. 10!)- Wohoo.
The top expat players? Here are the Top 5:

1- Jean Paul Villain, Head of Strategy, Abu Dhabi Investment Authority (France)
2-Tony Burman, Managing Director, Al Jazeera English (Canada)
3- James Hogan, CEO, Etihad Airways (Australia)
4- Kenneth Shen, Head of Strategy, Qatar Investment Authority (United States)
5- Rick Pudner, CEO, Emirates NBD (United Kingdom).

See the full ranking here.

A lesson in motherhood

I am not married, and so don't have kids of my own yet (although I am acutely aware the order can, in theory, be switched). Ha, right. Moving on.

Despite the above facts, a frisky furry animal taught me a lesson or two in motherhood this past week.

We have an adorable cat, Juju, who is less than a year old. When she was only a kitten, Juju was this adorable little thing (still is), and like most newborns, needed constant attention, care and love. As she grew older,though, her personality developed into something "unique" for her species: she did not like to cuddle or be petted, was hyperactive, attacked our toes as we walked by and would crouch into attach mode at invisible things ("I see dead people", perhaps?) constantly. We presumed there was something wrong with her, and took her to a vet to learn more.

The outcome? -Well, that's her personality. "Not all cats want to cuddle and act cute," said the vet. Well then. We were definitley intrigued. While we didn't necessarily want her to be the typical house cat, we were still concerned for our toes, and for the poor cat who seems to be frightened of well, air.

We got over it eventually, and learnt to deal with Juju and her ADHD ways. But a few days ago, something strange happened. She wanted to cuddle. Whenever I was sitting on a nearby couch, she would slowly approach me and lay on my lap, and then proceed to look at me and purr.
Because of Juju's difficult personality, I became ambivalent to her in the past. But a motherly instinct quickly developed: I was concerned for her change in ways.

Something was definiteley wrong because she was not being herself. And while I secretly I enjoyed her "normal" cat behaviour, I knew it wasn't normal for Juju. We took her to the vet only to find out she had a fever, possibly from a virus and possibly from a strain in one of her limbs (she had a slight limp). Juju got an injection, which was supposed to help with her high temperature, and was due to get another one the next day.

After two days of treatment, Juju was slowly turning into her usual independent self again. She resumed her unexplainable habit of 'attacking' our toes , and shyed away from people who wanted to pet her.
And while I miss the warmth of her snow white coat of fur as she lay on my lap, the mother in me is extremely glad she is acting herself again.

(Picture: Juju, pre-sickness)

Are you an Emirati artist, writer or scientist?..

...then you are eligible to win Dh 100,000 for your work as part of a National Day competition called 'Emirates Appreciation', organized by the UAE's Ministry of Culture.

Check out this story, in The National, for more information: Call for Cultural Awards Nominations.

By Haneen Dajani

Last Updated: May 20. 2009 4:39PM UAE / May 20. 2009 12:39PM GMT

The Ministry of Culture has started receiving nominations for Emirati writers, artists and researchers to win the Emirates Appreciation award for arts, sciences and literature.

A winner from each of the award’s categories – plastic arts, science, literature, field studies and research – will receive Dh100,000 from Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed, President of the UAE, on National Day.

In its fourth session this year, the areas chosen in each category are spatial configurations, electronic engineering, “faseeh” (classical Arabic) poetry and management studies.

“The objective of the award is to stimulate the intellectual, cultural and creative people in the UAE, to highlight and honour them and motivate the younger generations to improve knowledge of science, and to promote culture and creativity, intellectuals and creators, scientists and science from the UAE,” said Bilal al Budoor, the executive director for culture and arts at the ministry.

Winners will be chosen based on the accumulation of their creative productions and interaction with society, and not on the value of a single piece.

“So for example, if there are two poets nominated, one has been a poet for 20 years but his work is not (rich) poetry and suddenly came up with one great poem, and another poet has been writing (rich) poetry for the past 10 years, the priority to win goes to the person with the cumulative experience and who contributed to society with valuable work.”

Mr al Budoor recalled an incident from previous years when two doctors received an equal grade from judges, but one of them had more publications and interacted with the society more than the other, thus, the one with the greater influence on society won.

Applicants can either nominate themselves or they can be nominated by their organisations. The ministry also sends letters to other ministries and organisations asking them to nominate employees who fit the categories.

“In the first year, a very few number responded to our letters, but after they saw the honour and moral value of the award during the first ceremony, there was a major increase in numbers of nominations the following years,” he said.

Winners could apply again to the awards in following years, providing they apply to a different category to the one they won. So, if a person is both an artist and a writer, and won for his art the first year, he could apply as writer the following year.

The panel of judges consists of the Minister of Culture, Youth and Community Development Abdul Rahman Mohammed al Owais, Mr Budoor and the remaining five other judges change every year.

“The judges are themselves writers and artists who have a thorough background and valuable work in art and culture, so we change them every year to give them a chance to apply to the awards in following years,” he explained.

This year's judges are Ibrahim al Thaheri, Jumaa al Kubaissi, Dr Najat Makki, Ismail Ismail and Ali al Hamli.

hdajani@thenational.ae

When boys want to be boys, and girls...

When boys want to be boys and girls want to be … er, boys

By Tala Al Ramahi

Much has been written on “the other”, whether it is literary texts on orientalism, imperialism and such, yet there seems to be a peculiar species living among us that we still barely understand: the other … sex.

Abdul Salam Darwish, head of Family Reconciliation at Dubai Courts, recalls a social experiment conducted recently on fifth graders at a school in Jordan. The pupils were told: imagine you woke up tomorrow and you had been magically transformed into the opposite sex. The results were unintentionally humorous, and telling to say the least. The 10-year-old boys who imagined they had woken up as girls provided responses such as: “I would kill myself”, “I would go to the hospital and ask them to switch me back” and “I would never leave the house”. The girls’ reponses to their hypothetical sex change were more positive: “I would be the happiest person in the world”, and “I would have a big party and invite all the other boys”.

Despite advances in the cause of women in the region, it seems that being a boy – even a “boy” – is still preferable to being a girl. Differences in lifestyles are so pronounced, it seems, that even fifth graders are subconsciously aware of them.

And while it may be unscientific to extrapolate these findings to the entire region, it seems likely that the results would have been similar if the study had been conducted here. Nevertheless, the same social experiment should be conducted here in the UAE, to better understand our own young people, their outlook on gender relations and their understanding of “the other”. It would also be useful to expand the experiment to older students in high schools and universities to see if the outlook on “the other” changes.

The results of such studies may draw a clearer picture of whether the tremendous strides taken by Emirati women in the workplace are matched by similar advances at home and in their social lives.

The rising divorce rate is a cause for national concern, and steps are being taken by the Ministry of Social Affairs and others to address it. More than half the couples in Dubai who file for divorce do so because they do not understand how to treat their partners, Mr Darwish says. Most do not understand that the needs, wants and behaviours of “the other” are different from their own, a phenomenon he calls “familial illiteracy”.

Mr Darwish’s suggestion for tackling such “illiteracy” is a mandatory nationwide curriculum in universities that would enlighten young adults on the differing needs of each sex, and introduce them to other keys to matrimonal bliss, including how to treat and converse with each other productively.

I believe such a curriculum should be introduced even earlier: in high school, perhaps. The average age of marriage in the UAE is lower than in the West, which means many young men and women will marry or contemplate entering the “golden cage” before they even set foot on a college campus. Many never get as far as university in the first place, so early awareness is key if we hope to tackle this issue.

And there is something else we must consider. How can we become attuned to each others’ needs and understand the opposite sex when we barely interact with them (aside from direct family members) until later in life – at work, or even for the first time after marriage. Perhaps it would be best to foster a healthier view of “the other” by increasing interaction, at least at younger ages, through co-educational classes up to a certain grade.

A study compiled in 2006 by the Strategic Council, a Canadian research firm, found that students at co-ed schools are more confident in expressing their views in the presence of the opposite sex. The study of more than 17,000 students also concluded that they respected members of the opposite sex more because boys learn to interact with and gain respect for their female classmates.

So demystifying the other sex is not a regionally specific puzzle. Even in western cultures, where female-male interaction is substantial, men find it difficult to understand women, and vice versa. That explains the range of “products” on the subject, from the book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus to the 2000 Mel Gibson movie What Women Want.

Sociological and psychological-focused research on this is vital: and here’s hoping that in the future “I will kill myself” is not the response of a 10-year-old boy when he contemplates life as a girl.

talramahi@thenational.ae

Why would you want to buy this? Really...

If you're a fan of The Dark Knight, and creeping the bejesus out of yourself, you can buy this life size statue of the Joker at Virgin Megastore in Abu Dhabi, for a not-so-recession friendly price of Dh 8,000.

'Why so serious', folks?

Reading a Book? NO WAY

It is so rare to find a young (goodlooking - although that has nothing to do with the subject of this post) man reading a book (in public, at least)- that I had to do a double take when I spotted a late 20's/early 30's man seriously engaged in one (a real one. Not a magazine or a fluffy book) at Marina Mall today.

To be completely honest, my reading habit has deteriorated (though not completely) since I returned to the UAE. I am not sure why that is. I like to blame it on my chaotic busy lifestyle, but I had just a busy a schedule when I was a student at Stanford University. Nevertheless, I always made time to read, or at least skim, a book very often when I was a student.

What is it about this country that makes us so disconnected from anything that resembles a reading culture? Is it the lack of public libraries? Or the plethora of coffee shops that we use for nothing more than socializing. It is so rare to find someone in the city's MANY coffee shops just reading away. I used to do it when I first moved back here after graduation, and was actually teased by many of my friends for being a loner.

But really, there is nothing more relaxing than getting lost in a good book. And nothing more fulfilling than knowing you've learnt something new today.

This post actually reminds me of an interesting conversation I had with a local professor on just that: the lack of a reading culture. He somewhat disagreed with my hunch that the locals do not appreciate great literature. He pointed out that Muslims' awe of the Quran, and their respect for it, is not just because it is their God-given book, but because it is an astounding example of beautiful literature.

He went on to explain that the lack of public transportation and long commutes makes it even harder for residents to pick up a book to read. Which makes sense, I guess, since a long train or bus ride is the perfect opportunity to engage in a productive hobby, like reading. But then again, I know many a person who has replaced the book with an ipod; instead of investing in time to read a book, they "pass time" by watching an episode (or two) of a popular show they have downloaded from the internet (and uploaded to their ipod).

That said, I will leave you guys to ponder whether your own reading habit have also fallen victim to our so-called chaotic lives in the UAE. Are our lives THAT much busier than those who live in the U.S. or European countries?

I believe my conversation with Associate Professor Chris Brown, led him to write a Comment piece on the issue in The National. Check it out.

Xenophobia is not so cool...

Tolerance is Also An Integral Part of Our National Identity | December 03, 2008 | The National

By Tala Al Ramahi

Xenophobia is an ugly thing for society to live with. And stereotyping any race or ethnic group is almost always the precursor to racial intolerance. As an Arab studying in America in a post-September 11 world, I was apprehensive that I would have to pay for the outrages that the Islamist extremists had perpetrated.

I would be lying if I said I faced prejudice or intolerance – most probably because my features did not match up with the images of Arabs in the American subconscious. The racial classifications I was subjected to were mostly harmless. To the US airport security official, I looked Eastern European (it was always comical to observe their changing facial expressions when they asked for my passport).

To our local café’s barista, I looked conspicuously Mexican – so much so that I had to mutter “No habla Espanol” in butchered Spanish for her to believe me. (Nevertheless, it took her almost a month to get over the fact that my big hair and wide set dark eyes had nothing to do with any secret Mexican ancestry.)

To my then just-made college friend, I was an oil princess. Our friendship went on to become very close and she now knows me better – although she is still a little disappointed that she will not be visiting my mansion on The Palm any time soon.

However, despite my own experience, I have known many an Arab who has been a victim of racial intolerance in the United States because their looks “gave them away”. Hindus and Sikhs have also been consistently mistaken for Muslims, and found themselves the victims of hate crimes because of their clothes and beards – as if that somehow defined a “Muslim” to the outside world.

Now that I am back home in the United Arab Emirates, I have become even more aware that our own society is not impervious to such typecasting either. For many of us, a Filipina now means “domestic servant”, while South Asian implies “labourer” or “taxi driver”.

To many Western expatriates, Emiratis are undeservingly rich and lazy, while some of us UAE nationals view the British expatriates as inconsiderate for their unwillingness to integrate into our society, learn our language, and respect our customs. The expression “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” seemingly does not apply to anywhere outside Europe.

Such stereotyping appalled me when I first returned. It was difficult to conceive that ideals of racial equality or – at the least – tolerance were eroding over here as well. The unsettling thing is how quickly one can become desensitised by the attitudes that surround us, so that not only do they not seem to be wrong any more, but one finds oneself slipping into them, too.

“It’s something you learn to live with. You don’t view it as racism when you understand the country’s dynamics.” That is how an acquaintance once explained the situation to a visiting American. It is when we find ourselves justifying such lamentable attitudes that we really need to look at ourselves and admit where we are going wrong.

The country’s 37th National Day yesterday marked the pinnacle of 2008: the year of National Identity. And as I saw Emiratis, Palestinians and, yes, Indians waving their UAE flags from their cars and on the city’s streets, it struck me that this country, the beacon of the Gulf and the calm haven among so many turbulent storms, would not be what it is today without them. All of them.

We need labourers to build our skyscrapers, and garbage cleaners to keep our streets clean, just as much as we need Western consultants to advise us on those issues where we still have modest experience. Which is exactly why tolerance should be an integral part of our national identity.

We are all so intricately dependent on each other in this country. And while the demographic imbalance has been a cause of concern for many of us Emiratis, who sometimes feel as if we are visitors within our own borders, we must also realise that it is only as a result of such peculiar demographics that we can afford the luxuries and the lifestyles we now take for granted.

We are also indebted to our Emirati forefathers, who had to battle the harsh desert environment to lay the foundations of our young country. Our founding father, Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan, established the vision we follow today through his unwavering beliefs in tolerance and generosity.

Today’s generation of young Emiratis need to remind ourselves of those beliefs as we follow the noble path that he set. We can do that best by respecting each other, tolerating our differences – and even learning from them.

These greetings are one day late, but to all Emiratis, I wish you a belated happy 37th National Day. And to everyone else within our country’s borders, thank you for helping us make our country what it is today.

Dude, where's my Rent..Err, House?

The Chamber of Commerce and Industry in Abu Dhabi founded the Rent Dispute Committee almost two years ago, in an effort to resolve many unsettled disputes between greedy landowners and tenants who have been scammed or evicted illegally.

Real Estate is not really my beat at the paper, but I was called to sit on and report on a seminar aimed at raising awareness about Abu Dhabi's Rent Law No.20. The seminar was held in Arabic (which is understandable), and live English translation was available to non-Arabic speakers. However, I have my doubts about how serious the Committee is about spreading its message. Many of those who are scammed by greedy landowners and real estate agents are middle to low income earners in the city, particularly Philipino and Indian and Pakistani expats who cannot afford alternatives to run-down housing. They are also the forgotten majority in this city, who have no idea who to turn to when their rights are violated. Most of them are not even aware of such a Committe, and those who are are cautious about resorting to it because they are worried they won't be taken seriously or that the process would take too long.

Today, as I walked into the office, I was called on by a softspoken man with a clipping of my story.

Usually, I would be afraid of a stranger calling out my name in the newspaper's office. His case was different. "I need your help, ma'am", he pleaded. His eyes were filled with helplessness- akin to that of a child who is in desperate need of a provider. I sat and listened to his heart wrenching story; how his family is being bullied by the landowner's sons (or younger family members) in efforts to evict him and his wife and two children from their 2 bedroom penthouse.

"Please try to help me. What kind of father would I be if we are left on the street with my two daughters."

As I did some serious digging today, I came across many people (not-so-surprisingly, most are underpaid expatriates from South Asian countries) with similar stories. I wonder who will really listen to them. I'm on it Jo, I promise.

Freedom in the Skies?

It is one thing to report on an interesting phenomenon, but it is another thing to sensationalize and report on an event that misrepresents the society it is trying to portray.

As part of a series called 'Generation Faithful', the New York Times has been reporting on the youth of the Middle East, particularly focusing on their relationship with their faith (Islam, mostly).

I have to be honest. Some of the stories were interesting and worth reading, like 'Young and Arab in the Land of Mosques and Bars' which describes the schizophrenic situation of Dubai's culture.
But I was disappointed with a more recent story ('In Booming Gulf, Some Arab Women Find Freedom in the Skies'). This one is the epitome of American sensationalism when it comes to reporting on the Middle East. The feature's main premise states that there is a segment of women who escape their conservative culture by becoming flight attendants, and hence find their 'freedom in the skies' (particularly on board UAE-based airlines: Emirates and Etihad).

If the NYT would like to report on advancements in the cause of women in the Gulf, why not shed light on how Emirati women are outnumbering their male counterparts in graduation halls and the workplace. Arab women in the UAE serve as doctors, engineers and reporters (ahem ahem)- as professionals who don't rely predominantly on the looks, but rather on their intellectual capacity to contribute to the economic prosperity and overall development of the country. Why not report on the first female Emirati judge, the two newly elected female Emirati foreign ambassadors, or the two Ministers serving in the UAE Cabinet instead?

Furthermore, the story fails to give the reader a clearer sense of just how many Arab women work for the airlines mentioned. I don't have statistics but I am pretty sure that most of the stewardesses at Etihad and Emirates are actually European or South East Asian. Furthermore, the reporter undermines just how sexualized these stewardesses are (not my idea of female emancipation, to be honest). If there is one part of the story that I will agree with, it is this:

"It is impossible for an unveiled women in her 20s to go to a mall or grocery store in Abu Dhabi without being asked regularly by grinning strangers, if she is a stewardess."

If that above statement says anything, it is that these women have not escaped the glares of men who regard these women as glamorized prostitutes. Female liberation is something I hope for in this part of the world. Objectifying women and creating a niche job for them complying with sexist roles (housewife, airline stewardess etc...), however, is not a step forward in our journey towards independence and 'freedom'.

National Day (a little late)

I finally got the chance to upload the photos I took from National Day celebrations on December 2, 2008. Abu Dhabi promised to outdo the $20 million Atlantis official extravaganza. I -honestly- am not sure if they actually did, but they nevertheless were impressive.

What I was particularly in awe of was the universality of the celebrations this year. Americans, Brits, and Indians were all taking part in commemorating the UAE's 37th birthday, and the emotions all seemed genuine. Even the laborers, who arrived at the Corniche parade in bus loads were dancing and waving the UAE flag in geniune glee. Maybe they were truly happy for the opportunities they are provided with here, or maybe they found this a rare day to join the rest of the people in celebrating happiness.

Here are a few pics from the day:

Long Overdue

It's been almost 17 months since I returned to the UAE, after completing my undergraduate degree at Stanford University. I promised myself I would start a blog as soon as I arrived in order to document the (oh so confusing) journey of returning "home".
As you can see, that never happened- and my transition has yet to be documented. I've settled back home (with the parents) and have been working for almost a year now. I've suffered the counterintuitive phenomenon of reverse culture shock, which, believe it or not, was more serious than the culture shock I suffered when I landed alone, in the US at the mere age of 17.
A lot of things have been delayed (setting up my own business and getting this blog up and running, for example), but applying to Graduate School hasn't been been one of them. I just sent in my final application to Columbia Graduate School, and now I have my fingers crossed- until I get the replies.
That said, I am not sure if I will venture East again. Circumstances have changed since I returned. My apprehension of coming back to the UAE, after four years of living alone, has subsided (not entirely, though), and life here in the Arab world has become more endurable. The longer I am here, the less I am reminded of all the "little freedoms" I took for granted when living alone in the US. But then, there are times when I realize that we still have many strides to take if we would like to become part of the developed world. That could be another incentive for me to stay. My dad says I tend to walk away from problems, or shove them under the carpet, and emigrating would just prove him right.


This is life I guess. Constantly changing. Never constant.
Till my next post, hold on to this rollercoaster ride called life.

(caption: My final Stanford "Dinner on the Quad", before returning to the UAE. In the background is Stanford's Memorial Church, a non-denominational church)